


Scarecrow & Mr. Flynn: The Finale

by dreamlittleyo



Series: Scarecrow and Mr. Flynn [3]
Category: Scarecrow and Mrs. King, Tron (1982), Tron (Movies), Tron: Betrayal, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Canon - Movie, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, M/M, Rescue, Romance, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Wordcount: Over 1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 16:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kevin disappears. Lee does something about it.<br/></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <img/>
  </p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**ALAN**

The night after Kevin disappears, Sam shows up on Alan’s doorstep just as Alan’s phone rings. Sam’s bike lies heaped on the lawn, and the boy is breathing hard, shaking and exhausted. For a moment, all Alan can do is stare.

It’s five miles from the Flynn residence to Alan’s house.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says, opening the door wider so Sam can come inside. By the time he gets the door closed and locked, Sam is clinging to him so hard Alan nearly trips.

“Hey,” Alan says, extricating himself to kneel down at Sam’s height. Sam clings to him again, just as hard as before, wrapping small arms around Alan’s neck and burying his face in Alan’s shoulder.

Sam mumbles something into his shirt, but Alan can’t decipher most of it. All he can make out clearly is, “He promised,” and his heart fractures at the pain in Sam’s muffled voice.

He can’t fix this. He hasn’t the first clue how to start. He doesn’t know where Kevin is; all he knows is that Kevin would never have broken a promise to Sam. He’d never have taken off without a word, without checking in, without leaving a note for Alan to stumble across at the office.

But Alan’s desk this morning was spotless. Kevin hasn’t called, hasn’t paged him, hasn’t done a single damn thing to get in touch. Kevin can be distractible, but never like this. Never if it meant flaking on a promise and crushing Sam. Whatever his other faults, Kevin Flynn has always put Sam first.

Sam. Jesus, what’s Alan going to do about Sam? The kid is sobbing now, and Alan’s never felt so inadequate in his life.

Across the hall in the living room, Alan’s phone rings again; and rather than let go of the boy crying into his shirt, he hoists Sam into his arms. Sam’s too big to carry this way, but that’s not going to stop Alan today. Sam’s crying goes quiet as Alan answers the phone—like he’s listening—like he’s hoping just as much as Alan that it’s Kevin on the line.

It’s not Kevin. It’s Dotty Flynn calling in a panic, because Sam has run off, and they don’t know where he’s gone, and has Alan seen him—

“He’s here,” Alan interrupts. “He’s with me. I’ll look after him.” Sam hiccups, fingers fisting in Alan’s shirt. When Alan hangs up the phone, he expects the noisy tears to resume.

But Sam is quiet now. He clings limply, as though exhaustion and upset have hollowed him out and left him with barely enough energy to keep his eyes open.

Alan sets him on the couch; he’s both surprised and relieved when Sam lets go of him and then curls quietly into one corner.

“Here.” Alan hands him a box of tissues, conveniently near at hand. “If I get you some juice will you try to drink it?”

Sam nods mutely and clings to the blue pillow that lives at the end of the couch.

Alan passes the hall mirror on his way to the kitchen. He looks shell-shocked and numb. His shirt is a soaked wreck on one side; there will be no salvaging it. He doesn’t care.

He hurries in the kitchen, unwilling to leave Sam unattended any longer than necessary. The fridge swings heavily shut, and Alan’s hand is steady (more or less) as he carries a glass of apple juice back down the hall. He’s halfway across the living room when the doorbell rings, drawing both his and Sam’s attention with a jolt.

It must be Kevin. Sam’s grandparents won’t be rushing to collect him after Alan’s reassurance, and even if they were they wouldn’t have arrived so quickly. Alan forces himself not to rush to the couch, and he manages not to spill the juice as he sets it on the end table.

“Wait here, Sam.”

And though Sam’s eyes widen and follow him, across the room and into the hall—until Alan has moved around the corner and out of sight—Sam stays obediently put.

Alan’s heart is a ruckus of foolish hope when he puts his hand on the knob, so of course he’s startled when he opens the door and sees not Kevin’s face but his own. It takes his rational brain a moment to catch up, and only belatedly does he realize:

“Mr. Stetson.” Alan’s not sure what to make of Lee Stetson’s presence on his doorstep. They’ve met twice? Three times? Alan honestly doesn’t remember, and it matters little enough now.

“Is Sam here?” 

“Yes,” Alan says, though he admits it grudgingly. He knows little about this man beyond the fact that he clearly means a great deal to Kevin. Considering the circumstances, and the unannounced visit, that’s not really enough to go on.

“Can I see him?” Stetson asks, looking strangely hesitant.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea right now.” Lord knows Sam’s had enough upset for one night. He’s finally calmed down, and Alan is leery of doing anything to set him off again.

But Stetson says, “Please,” in a voice so quietly desperate that he can’t refuse.

“Come in,” he says with a tired sigh.

They’ve barely rounded the corner into the living room before Sam is hurtling off the couch.

“Lee!” He moves so fast Alan’s sure someone is going to fall over, but Stetson is quick and sharp, and in the span of a blink he’s got Sam wrapped in his arms—lifting him and hushing him, and not for a second complaining about the fact that Sam’s white-knuckled grip must be making it difficult to breathe.

“He promised,” Sam is repeating. “Lee, he _promised_.” Over and over again, like it’s the only thing Sam can think, let alone say. Lee hums noncommittally and hugs him, and says nothing at all, until long minutes later when Sam finally falls silent.

“Sam, look at me,” Stetson says into the subsequent quiet. Alan watches with curiosity, feeling like an intruder in his own home. Sam raises his head from Stetson’s shoulder and looks him in the eye, and only then does Stetson continue, “I’ll find him. I swear.”

And quick as that, relief softens the tight fear in Sam’s face. He obviously believes Stetson, easily and instantly. Alan is furious, every protective instinct screaming at him to interfere before Sam’s heart can break all over again. But he holds his tongue.

He keeps quiet until Sam falls asleep, and then he leads Stetson to the door, still seething.

“You shouldn’t make promises you might not be able to keep,” he says in a low voice. But instead of chagrin, Stetson locks him with a terrifying look. There’s steel in his eyes, and startling ferocity.

“I have every intention of keeping my promise.” 

Then Stetson disappears into the night, leaving Alan to realize with a start that he almost believes it himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**LEE**

The Grid is like nothing Lee has ever seen; it’s so far beyond his imaginings that it takes him a solid forty seconds to pick his jaw off the ground and find a less exposed position from which to take it all in.

Kevin described this place to him, of course. At the time, Lee thought those descriptions fanciful but vivid. Whether he believed Kevin or not (and he’s never been sure on that score, if he’s going to be honest), he thought he had conjured a realistic enough image of this place in his mind.

But the conjured images fall so short of reality that Lee can’t even process what this is—what it means.

Kevin’s stories are true. Completely, utterly, one-hundred percent true. 

Lee found the computer setup beneath the Arcade—not difficult with everything Kevin has told him over the past two years—and there he found the laser array. There were no clues to Kevin’s real-world whereabouts as Lee had hoped, but the whole setup had been strange in a way that felt like fate. Lee pushed the button and activated the laser, and inadvertently brought himself—

Here. The Grid. A whole city standing tall and beacon-bright. The cityscape gives off a light that overwhelms the cloudy darkness above. Everything about this place is clean and sharp-edged, vicious in a way that puts Lee on guard and makes him want to take his gun in hand.

He decides not to fight that instinct, reaching beneath his suit jacket for his weapon—

And finds nothing. The holster is there; the weapon… not so much. 

Lee curses and looks down at himself for the first time since he opened his eyes to bright lights and vertigo. He inhales sharply at the strange sight of his dark suit, lit at the cuffs and the seams and even the buttonholes, as though powered by the same pulsing electricity that saturates the city around him. Even his tie is a crosshatch of thin, glowing lines. Lee stares and wonders what the fuck he’s supposed to do now.

Kevin is here. Somewhere. He has to be. There were no solid clues in that basement office, but Lee is sure just the same. He knows with a gut instinct that’s never served him wrong.

He peers around the corner of the narrow alley he’s tucked himself into, glancing down the wider street. His first priority is information, which means finding someone to talk to—someone who can give him the lay of the land. There are no people in either direction, no matter how far down the street Lee looks, so he turns and makes his way down the alley instead.

A city like this can’t be empty. He’ll find someone. And then he’ll find Kevin and tell him _exactly_ what Lee thinks of this vanishing into a computer with no warning bullshit.

And then he’ll get Kevin out of here, back to the world outside, back to _Sam_. Back where Kevin belongs.


	3. Chapter 3

**QUORRA**

It’s dangerous to go back into the city. Clu’s guards know she’s alive; there’s a reward on her head, not to mention a glittering promotion to the upper ranks for anyone who manages to apprehend the last ISO. 

Flynn has admonished her dozens of times to stay close. He doesn’t try to curb her from leaving their sanctuary in the mountainous outlands, but he urges caution. He can’t protect her if she leaves the outskirts and goes into the city.

There’s heartbreak behind his smile, and something ancient in his eyes despite the youth of his face.

Quorra tries to heed his caution, but it’s difficult. Curiosity calls her back, again and again, to the busy streets where she can listen. Nearly a dozen such visits, and still she goes, even though the news is never good; even though she has to hide behind a dark mask and total silence lest someone recognize her. 

It’s in a narrow bypass near Gamma Sector that Quorra catches a murmur of something besides fear, and a name she never expected to hear again.

“He says he’s not Tron,” a program in a deep hood whispers to an equally discreet companion. “But I know that face. It’s only a matter of time before he’s apprehended.”

“Didn’t you hear?” the cowled companion interrupts. “He was picked up in Zeta Sector. He’ll be put him in the Games, but you can bet it won’t be a fair matchup. He probably won’t survive the first round.”

Quorra moves before either program can spot her, turning her steps towards Sigma Sector and the stadium.


	4. Chapter 4

**KEVIN**

The bright-walled hideout is quiet whenever Quorra is gone. The silence twists unpleasantly beneath Kevin’s skin and makes it impossible not to worry. Is she all right? Is she walking herself into trouble right this moment? Is he an unforgivable coward for hiding his face when he could (should) be protecting her—the sole fraction of a responsibility he hasn’t already failed?

He can’t set foot in Tron City. He fought that battle and lost. All he can do now is hide beyond reach and keep his disc out of Clu’s hands, and try to be stronger than the heartbroken rage twisting his insides into a constant pulp. 

Sam. Christ, he’s never going to see Sam again. Or Lee, for that matter. It’s been what, three hundred cycles? How is Kevin supposed to keep going for what amounts to an eternity, when he’s already on the verge of despair?

He doesn’t know how long the beacon has been alight before he notices. He’s been avoiding the giant window and balcony he crafted into the cliff face, because the view does nothing but jar the aching edges in his chest. So when he glances up and sees that unmistakable glow in the distance, Kevin’s breath freezes in his lungs.

It’s dangerous to hope. He steps out onto the balcony anyway.

The chasm below is deep with shadows, and far enough down that Kevin barely sees the lights of Quorra’s Lightrunner when at last the vehicle comes into view. She’s been gone longer than usual, and Kevin’s heart jolts in his chest as the runner closes the distance and at last disappears into the cliff.

He holds his breath and doesn’t go back inside. He can’t hear the sound of the elevator from out here, though he knows it will rise soon; he can’t hear footsteps crossing the brightly lit floor. 

“Kevin,” comes an uncertain voice behind him, low and familiar, and Kevin whirls.

“ _Lee_ ,” he gasps, and even though all he wants is to move forward and touch, he finds himself motionless and staring. Lee is dressed in the tight, streamlined garb of the Games, and just as his resemblance to Alan is uncanny, he looks so much like Tron now that Kevin’s having trouble taking it in. 

He knows this is Lee, though. He’d know Lee from anyone, if only from the way Kevin’s heart skips a beat every time Lee Stetson walks into a room. 

Besides. Tron never called him Kevin.

“Jesus, it’s good to see you,” Kevin breathes at last, crossing the balcony in a rush and dragging Lee into his arms. Relief and hope sing noisily in his chest, and he clings until Lee returns the embrace. 

“Clu had him on the Lightcycle Grid,” Quorra says, stepping towards them. “I intervened.”

Kevin’s pretty sure he should thank her, but he can’t think of a single thing to say that won’t fall comically short of properly expressing his gratitude. He settles for smiling at her as he draws back from the circle of Lee’s arms.

“You seem surprised,” Lee says, eyes flickering over Kevin. “You didn’t think I’d just give up on you. Did you?” He actually looks hurt at the prospect, and suddenly Kevin feels guilty. 

“No way, man. Just wasn’t sure you’d find your way in here.” It seemed a long shot at best, when he couldn’t even be sure Lee believed him about this place. 

They fall silent all at once, and suddenly it’s awkward. Tension twines around and between them, and it’s so palpable that it scares Quorra away—at least, Kevin assumes that’s why she disappears down the hall towards her own room. Leaving just him and Lee to stand here, watching each other warily, like they’re both expecting the other to say something.

“Kevin, what happened?” Lee asks at last, and Kevin lets out the breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. 

“It’s a long story,” he admits. “And you’re probably not going to believe half of it.” 

Lee gives him a wry smile, setting his hands on Kevin’s shoulders and giving a reassuring squeeze. Kevin feels instantly better—feels like, with Lee at his side, maybe he’s not completely fucked after all.

“Try me,” Lee says. “And then let’s get the hell out of here.”


	5. Chapter 5

**SAM**

He wakes to quiet voices. At first he doesn’t know where he is.

He recognizes the couch quickly enough, and then he remembers. Alan. And Lee. And Dad’s missing, but Lee said he would find him. Lee promised. And even though Dad promised, too (Dad promised, and then he wasn’t there and people were whispering behind Sam’s back, saying horrible things), Sam knew Lee wouldn’t let him down.

Lee is talking to Alan now, faces and expressions so much alike, hushed tones that Sam can’t make out. And behind them—

Sam jolts upright on the couch, because behind them he thinks he sees—

“ _Dad_!” he cries, and he’s on his feet and scrambling towards the door. He almost falls he’s hurrying so fast on sleepy legs, but strong arms catch him and lift him, and, “ _Dad_ ,” Sam gasps again, burying his face in his dad’s shoulder.

“I’m here, kiddo.” Dad’s voice is low in his ear, and Sam wraps his arms tighter around his dad’s shoulders. “I’m right here. I’m so sorry. Everything’s okay.”

Sam unburies his face just enough to peer over his dad’s shoulder at Lee and Alan, watching their relieved smiles. But there’s movement behind them again, back in the hall, and Sam squints, trying to see into the darkness. Pale shapes resolve into a pretty face and thin arms, and a woman Sam doesn’t recognize steps into the room. 

“Who’s that?” Sam asks, question muffled in his dad’s t-shirt. It’s rude to talk about people when they’re standing right there, but Sam’s too wired and too relieved and too exhausted to care.

“This is someone you should meet,” Dad says, and Sam straightens so he can look the newcomer directly in the face. She has dark hair and wide eyes, and Sam likes her instantly. “Quorra,” Dad continues, shifting Sam in his arms. “This is my son.”

“Hello, Sam,” the woman says, smiling. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

And even though he’s exhausted—even though Sam’s never been so terrified as he was the past two days, and he’s only had his dad back for two minutes—even though he has no idea who this woman is or why she’s here, Sam smiles back.

  
**THE END**   



End file.
